Tashuk's Secret
by Sharka
Summary: A woman is captured by the Uruk-hai and thinks she will die in their hands. Unexpectedly, one Uruk-hai treats her with kindness and helps her escape. But why...? Chapter 2 up!
1. Default Chapter

The woman did not stir. A dark band of blood still trickled down her left thigh, while in other places it had begun to dry off, leaving brownish stains all over her body. When another dark and tall figure approached, she just moaned without raising her head. No, she could not fight any longer. Pain had become her permanent companion. It floated through the lower half of her body in dull throbs, and she only wished to pass out again.  
  
When they had started to rape her, she had struggled and tried to bite and kick them, although she was firmly tied to a tree and the ropes had cut into her wrists and stomach. They had just laughed their guttural laughter and enjoyed her courageous resistance, teasing her, raking sharp claws through her hair and answering her desperate and pathetic attempts at snapping by ravishing her mouth, returning the favor eagerly and responding with further arousal.  
  
The fact that she had already been bleeding when they started to slake their lust on her had not bothered them. Instead, it had turned them on and maybe even initiated their violations. She had tried not to lose her mind, telling herself that at least the wetness made the forced entry and the brutal, endless thrusting of their hard cocks less painful, and of course none of the monsters could impregnate her.  
  
If they were actually capable of doing this. If she survived this ordeal. She doubted both.  
  
Hours later, Mahulda dared to lift her head. Through entangled strands of sand-brown, shoulder-length hair, she looked at the Uruk-hai in front of her. To her surprise, she felt nothing. Only one thought took shape in her brain.  
  
If this one takes me as well, please let me pass out again.  
  
But the Uruk-hai only kept observing her, not stirring a muscle. Mahulda's head dropped like the blossom of a broken flower. She could and would not deal with this nightmare that was her reality any longer. Her body did not do her the favor of letting her faint though, nor was she able to sleep in her miserable state. During the torture inflicted on her she had lost all concept of time. At nightfall, they finally had left her alone. It was still dark, and the watching Uruk-hai was also still there.  
  
"I brought food." Another rough voice, but neither lecherous nor threatening.  
  
Mahulda raised her head and carefully glanced at the motionless dark figure again. He was still about 10 feet away, obviously trying not to frighten her. He held something that looked like bread - not the horrible meat of an origin she dared not think about - cupped in his hands. The muscular arms reached out and offered it to her.  
  
Stupid beast, I am tied to a tree, she thought.  
  
But at least her ability to think had returned, even if she doubted this was a good thing in her situation. Then she realized that maybe the Uruk was not sure if she had understood his words and hence had gestured to her. For now, her curiosity was stronger than her despair. She dared to answer him.  
  
"Is it bread?" she asked in a small voice.  
  
"Yes. You want it?"  
  
There was a pause.  
  
"Why do you bother to feed me at all? Are you not going to kill me anyway?"  
  
"Maybe the others will... now... don't you want to eat?"  
  
Mahulda was not sure if she wanted to prolong her ordeal by sustaining her body. If they took her again, she would certainly die from the bleeding. They had been close to ripping something inside her today. She had felt it with a chill, seconds before she had mercifully passed out. They obviously weren't interested in fucking a doll-like, limp human, and when she had come to, she had been alone, bleeding and stained with her own urine.  
  
She flinched when the almost human-like Orc-creature stepped closer. The sharp-nailed hand held the bread close to her mouth.  
  
"Eat!" the beast urged her.  
  
Before another thought could materialize in Mahuldas mind, she opened her mouth and began to chew the food the Uruk stuffed into it. Surprisingly, it was good bread - soft and not too old. She found herself greedily swallowing and was rewarded with more sustenance.  
  
Yellow lynx-eyes sparkled at her. The creature was obviously excited about its success.  
  
"Good? ...I'll get you water, too."  
  
When he returned, Mahulda was composed enough to take a closer look at her Uruk visitor. He was smaller than most of the others, but almost a head taller than her. Also not as wide in the chest as his comrades, but the strong thighs and the pronounced musculature were there. She dared not to muster his face too closely, but there was something boyish about this one. Maybe this was why he seemed not interested in raping her. The idea of a shy, teenage Uruk-hai might have been amusing in itself, but certainly nothing related to her captors was able to amuse Mahulda after what she had been through.  
  
No, and he definitely wasn't shy. But all this did not matter anyway. As much as this creature tried to show her kindness, he would not be able to keep the others from forcing themselves on her if they wished to do so again. And she was sure they would. Tears rose in her eyes, and with the shock wearing off, she broke down and cried, shaking so bad that the Uruk took a step backward and watched her open-mouthed.  
  
"Stop it," he said helplessly. "You cannot drink like this."  
  
Mahulda was beyond herself.  
  
"Does, does... not... matter," she sobbed. "You... you... why... don't you kill me if you want to... help."  
  
"No! Not kill you. Want you live."  
  
The woman shook her head. Death was the only way out, her only chance to escape all this. Weird that it had taken the comfort of food and a break from the torture in order for this realization to become implanted in her mind. Now it was here for good.  
  
The slender Uruk-hai turned this and that way, checking if they were far enough from possible eavesdroppers. Then he continued in a low voice:  
  
"Day after tomorrow, there will be a big fight with the horse people. You must live until then. Live. Promise!"  
  
Mahulda's shoulders shook, as she cried uncontrollably now. It took her the better part of a minute to regain sufficient control of herself to speak:  
  
"Why would I want to live, and how can I promise that?"  
  
"Trust. I stand two watches tomorrow night. I come back, bring food and water. Live!"  
  
The dark figure edged closer again, the wide, glittering eyes mustering every inch of Mahulda's violated body. He waited patiently for her heaving and shaking to ebb, then he raised the wooden cup to her mouth, gently holding the back of her head and balancing the cup against her torn and blood-crusted lips, making sure she did not spill the precious liquid. She did not know why - if it was fear of the Uruk facing her, survival instinct or whatever - but she found herself drinking in greedy gulps. The water was reasonably clean and soothing.  
  
No further word was exchanged between them. The Uruk-hai left the clearing and returned to their nearby camp, leaving the woman shivering and quietly crying in the cold.  
  
*************  
  
At some point she must have fallen asleep. When she woke up, the sun was high in the sky and somewhat warming. As soon as Mahulda opened her eyes, her mind began to reel. First the memories of her brutal rape by the fierce Uruk-hai warriors came flooding back, then also the recollection of last night's events - the strangely gentle and caring Uruk guard, who had brought her food, water and...  
  
Hope. With surprise Mahulda realized she was stronger than she would ever have given herself credit for. Yes, they had killed her husband, and probably all other relatives in her village as well, but maybe the Uruk-hai guard could help her escape. The possibility had only been implied, but he had sounded urgent and sincere.  
  
Although the thought that he might simply want her for himself, all the while plotting and planning against his stronger and bigger fellows, had occured to the young woman, she doubted it. Her instinct told her no, it was not so. His friendliness and concern were honest. She would try to survive this day. Maybe they would let her...  
  
I cannot give him my promise, she thought sadly, but I will try to live through this.  
  
Toward midday the atmosphere in the camp was stifled, and there was an almost tangible tension in the air telling of the upcoming battle. The Uruk- hai were getting restless. Since sunrise, none of them had paid attention to her. Maybe the crude beasts had forgotten about her. Maybe their brains could only process so and so much information at a time, and now they were all worked up about their battle plans. Her condescending thoughts consoled Mahulda a bit, but they did not keep her from praying that they would leave her alone.  
  
Later in the afternoon some Uruks walked up to her, their intent clearly written on their dark and malevolent, leering faces. But just as they began to circle her, fangs bared and suggestively running their tongues over grinning mouths, their leader's voice thundered. His words rang unintelligible in Mahulda's ears. Reluctantly the Uruk-hai males left the shaking woman alone. Mahulda's only humiliation was self-inflicted, as she wetted herself after her prospective tormentors had left.  
  
When the sun begun to set behind the forest, Mahulda started to cry again, silently enough not to attract any attention, but pouring out all her misery, despair and exhaustion nevertheless. She was cold in her torn clothes, her flesh was raw under the ropes that held her, and pain - her whole body consisted of pain. Even if somebody unties me, I will not be able to stay on my feet, let alone run, she thought. She felt very, very weak, and she was very, very much aware that she would not have survived if the Uruk-hai had decided to abuse her body again.  
  
She woke up with a start when she felt hot Orc breath on her face. Painfully banging her head against the tree, she flinched from the grotesque, beastly face. Wide, golden eyes blinked, and the creature uttered a soft purring sound that changed into soft-spoken words.  
  
"It is me. Bringing bread and water."  
  
The Uruk-hai guard. Mahulda resumed breathing and forced herself to relax.  
  
"I... I did not recognize you... you look different somehow... fierce." Her voice shook.  
  
"Warpaint. Battle tomorrow. You did not forget, no?"  
  
"No... of course not."  
  
"Good. Tomorrow you will be free. Eat now."  
  
Mahulda's stomach contracted, and she felt dizzy. Free tomorrow! Either this creature was crazy, or she was already fantasizing from exhaustion. Skilled, black fingers diverted her from further contemplation of these options, as her visitor pressed the wooden cup against her mouth, instinctively realizing that she needed liquid much more than food right now. The woman drank eagerly, and she did not mind that his free hand rested against her head, stroking her soothingly while she was gulping down the water.  
  
She accepted the bread equally grateful, while the Uruk was bristling with excitement. While she chewed her food, he talked to her, his voice urgent:  
  
"Battle brings chaos. I will cut you from tree. Nobody will notice. When somebody notices, other plan: You must drop to the ground. When I touch your left shoulder, stay and play dead until I return. No move! Stay, and no move, or I cannot save you."  
  
Hastily, Mahulda swallowed the bite of bread. His plan brought new fear, but it might also work. She also had to admit that he was smarter than she had expected an Orc to be.  
  
"But I cannot walk. I am too weak, and my limbs are totally numb. And... and... what if they find out I am alive and want to... it..." Her voice trailed off and got lost in a haze of painful memories.  
  
A wicked grin flashed over the wildly painted face.  
  
"Naaa," the guard said, "You don't know Uruk-hai... Rather battle than fuck!"  
  
Mahulda shuddered. Well, this was a clear answer regarding one of her concerns. As for the second...  
  
"I will carry you," the Uruk said plainly. It was as if he had read her thoughts.  
  
"Where to?" she replied suspiciously.  
  
"Where you can rest until you follow your path on your own."  
  
Follow your path on your own. Mahulda could not believe this. The creature's words had unintendedly sounded so poetic that it brought the tears back to her eyes.  
  
"Why are you doing this for me?" she asked, while the Uruk's face drew closer to hers, watching the tears trickling down Mahuldas cheeks in fascination.  
  
"You must learn Tashuk's secret. No harm! Promise."  
  
Mahulda fell silent. If 'Promise' meant he gave her his, she would trust him. If 'Promise' meant that she had to give him hers, he had it. He was her only chance for survival, and she was not afraid of him. She took a deep breath and looked into the Uruk's bright, intense eyes.  
  
"I want to learn your secret, Tashuk. I'll do as you said."  
  
"Good." He looked pleased, and for the first time Mahulda saw an Uruk-hai smile. Shyly and tentatively she smiled back at him.  
  
Before the moment could turn awkward, Tashuk's head flew sideways, as he heard some noise from the camp. Mahulda's face twitched with freshly awakened fear.  
  
"I better go back," he said. "I come to you before morning. Promise."  
  
He dove into the shadows and was gone.  
  
*************  
  
Tashuk's second visit was brief. He was both tired and excited, and Mahulda took some consolation in the realization that this creature did know exhaustion. So maybe not all Uruk-hai were unfeeling killing machines. And maybe not all of them were brutal rapists. This was small consolation though, as she was extremely cold and her teeth chattered audibly. The temperature had dropped below last night's level.  
  
The Uruk crammed some more bread into her mouth; then he gave her water. Realizing she was shaking violently, he produced a bottle of strong smelling alcohol.  
  
"It is beer... Orc beer. The Mordor Orcs make this," he said almost apologetically. "You'll probably hate it. Makes you warm, so drink. I get a blanket too, but must take it back before others notice."  
  
Mahulda cringed at the sour-bitter taste of the potent alcohol, but when she was halfway through the bottle's content on an almost empty stomach, she began to enjoy the rollercoaster feeling it created. How weird that she suddenly could hover over the ground while being tied to a tree!  
  
Tashuk could not suppress a grin when he saw how the woman's eyes first glazed, then closed and her features relaxed, as he wrapped a blanket around her frail body, briefly catching a glimpse of a pink nipple surrounded by forklike claw traces and spots of dried blood.  
  
"Tomorrow, you be free. Promise!" he muttered.  
  
*************  
  
The battle seemed to last for hours, and it was just close enough for Mahulda to hear faint sounds of clashing weapons and war cries of both humans and Uruk-hai. She was completely alone and thus fair game to her imagination. What if Tashuk got killed in battle? What if he was intercepted on the way to her by his own kind or humans? Or worse, he decided that fighting was his true calling, and his whim of tending to an injured, pathetic weakling human had dissipated.... No, she thought, no. He will come and save me. His secret. He promised!  
  
After what seemed like an eternity to the exhausted, injured woman, a single Uruk-hai came crashing through the branches. Sweat glistened on his arms and legs and there were fresh bloodstains on his armor. The black braids were wet with sweat too, and the creature looked as if it had been fighting since its creation. Mahulda could not stifle a cry of sheer and uncontrollable panic. A strong hand slid over her mouth and muffled it before it could reach its full pitch.  
  
"Quiet! You want us killed? Alone now - maybe not long!"  
  
Mahulda whimpered with pain as Tashuk cut her loose. As she had expected, her tormented limbs gave in and she crumbled to the ground like a discarded toy. Tashuk raised her upper body, then slid strong arms under hers. He forced her to stand for a second; then firmly gripped her above the waist. Before her brain could even concoct the idea of protest, she was lifted up and thrown over her savior's shoulder. Her whole body ached, and for a couple of seconds she thought she was going to be sick. But her stomach was empty, and when the ground beneath her started to move swiftly, she simply passed out.  
  
*************  
  
When Mahulda came to, she was lying on a rough blanket, yet her bed felt soft. Leaves and thin branches gently rustled under the fabric as she carefully lifted her head. The light of a small fire sent restless light flickering over roughly hewn walls. She could not tell if this was some natural cave or a hideout made by men, but then she did not care all that much. A second blanket covered her body. She was warm. She was alive. Somebody had taken care of her.  
  
In the corner of one eye she noticed something dark move about, and she turned her head. First came the now familiar onslaught of panic at the sight of a tall, black-skinned creature, then her memory returned. She recalled that this one was different. The Uruk-hai shot her a brief glance. He sat down opposite her bed and silently tended to the fire. Mahulda saw that there was dark blood on his right upper arm, a long cut that looked like a nasty gash created by a longsword.  
  
So it could not have been long.  
  
"Tashuk," Matulda said with a weak voice. "How long have I been asleep?"  
  
"Asleep? Passed out! Thought you'd die on me. Not good..."  
  
"I am sorry."  
  
"Not sorry! That's stupid!" he snarled.  
  
Mahulda fell silent again. Now that she was safe, she felt very uncomfortable. At the Uruk-hai camp, where Tashuk had first offered his help, she had not had many options to choose from. Now she was free, but with no place to go, in a bad shape, and sitting in a cave with an injured Uruk warrior who had just snarled at her. Where would all of this lead? She fought back the tears, since she did not want to annoy her savior.  
  
Tashuk stirred the fire again. Only then Mahulda noticed a cleanly skinned rabbit beginning to turn crisp and reddish-brown over the fire. The smell of it made her mouth water. Tashuk seemed to feel the same way. While he turned the roast meat on a stick, his tongue flicked over the sharp fangs. Inevitably, the gesture made Mahulda wince. Gratefully she realized he had not seen her shudder. He was staring so intensely at the cooking rabbit that Mahulda actually dared to study his face closely for the first time.  
  
It was almost triangular, with high cheekbones. The eyes, although at that exact angle that made most Uruks look like huge, catlike predators, seemed quite large for this face. When he leaned toward the fire, the long black braids parted on one side to display a pointed, small ear. The nose could have passed for a human nose, except for the large, now slightly fluttering nostrils. When the woman's gaze finally fell on Tashuk's mouth, she felt an emotion she could not place. His was the most sensous mouth she had ever seen: perfectly shaped for this face, with full lips doing their best to hide the creature's cruel teeth.  
  
Tashuk's scrutinizing glare interrupted Mahulda's contemplation.  
  
"Why are you staring like that?" he demanded.  
  
Mahulda felt it was best to say the truth, so she tried to sound as calm as possible.  
  
"I did not mean to be rude. I was merely studying your face.  
  
"I have never before looked closely at an Uruk-hai's face without fearing for my life at the same time," she added hesitantly.  
  
His gaze softened. "Understand," he responded slowly, focusing on their food again.  
  
They shared their meal in silence, Tashuk handing the tender parts of the rabbit to Mahulda while he wolfed down the other parts that qualified as edible in his view, which happened to be everything else. After little more than five minutes, there was nothing left of the small animal. Mahulda felt the drowsiness of exhaustion catching up with her again, but she had to relieve herself and tried to sit up, wondering if she was able to go outside by herself.  
  
Tashuk observed her, but did not stir a muscle. Gritting her teeth, the injured woman struggled to her feet. She managed to prop herself up against the cave wall and take a few insecure steps, then she collapsed. The Uruk caught her just in time to ease her fall. Gathering her up in his arms, he carried her outside and gently sat her down on a mossy spot.  
  
"Back in some minutes," he said. Mahulda nodded, her face flushed.  
  
As Tashuk eased Mahulda back onto her bed of branches and a blanket, his gaze fell on her soiled and bloodstained thighs.  
  
"I should make you clean," he said matter-of-factly. "Not good like this. You will be sick."  
  
A clawed hand stroked her thigh. Mahulda's blood froze, and within a split second panic welled up in her.  
  
"No, no. Just leave me be. I'll be fine."  
  
The woman slid out of his supporting arms, pushing herself away from him with all the strength she had left. Then she frantically and unsuccessfully began to pull at the seam of her shredded dress to cover herself. Once more, she began to shake, and tears trickled down her cheeks as she gasped: "No, no, leave me alone!"  
  
Tashuk withdrew with a smooth movement, almost ducking away from the human, his eyes narrowing. He came to stand in front of her, shaking almost as badly as the woman crouched before him. Clenching his fists so hard that the claws pierced his own flesh, Mahulda's savior tried to fight back the rage that threatened to overwhelm him. And there was something else that he was struggling with - a feeling that he had never experienced before. Tashuk felt hurt, and this new feeling was worse than the familiar emotion of rage.  
  
"I will not rape you. I don't want to, and I cannot!" he shouted.  
  
Mahulda did not respond. She only sobbed and curled into a fetal position without looking at the upset creature before her. Tashuk continued to glare at her, grim and determined to settle this issue once and for all. But the human female just continued to produce sniffing and wining noises. She drew her blanket tightly around her, edging closer to the wall in complete denial of what was happening right here and now.  
  
The Uruk's glittering eyes bored into the half-naked woman's body for another few seconds, the dark face twisted with barely controlled rage. But in spite of his vicious expression, Tashuk felt more defeated than anything else. The Uruk-hai were not exactly known for bestowing unselfish acts of kindness onto others, and yet Tashuk had done what he thought right - against his nature, against his conditioning, even against his own instinct of self-preservation. Little did the pathetic human know what Tashuk had risked to help her.  
  
Mahulda just sobbed. And continued to sob. And buried her face in the blanket. At this very moment, the Uruk despised her. He had never despised anyone, not even the bickering and slavering Orcs of Sauron, whose company Saruman had forced upon their army. They had taught the Uruk-hai some useful things, and some things they could well have done without. Now Tashuk felt betrayed and alone. This female creature was so weak; it did not really matter if she learned the truth now or later. Tashuk did not care anymore. Maybe this had all been one big mistake anyway.  
  
Angrily, he tore at his leather tunic and did not stop until he was completely naked. His strong arm lashed out, and a rough hand got hold of the woman's upper arm. Effortlessly, he swung her around to face him.  
  
"Look at me!" he roared.  
  
An eternity seemed to pass. When Mahulda realized that Tashuk would not attack her, she lowered her arms and slowly opened her eyes. Immediately they widened in astonishment. She breathed in sharply, then her mouth fell and stayed open. The sobbing stopped. Mahulda blinked several times. She could not believe what she saw.  
  
"You. you are like me," she whispered voicelessly.  
  
"Naaa, not like you!" the Uruk spat scathingly. "Not weak and making sad funny noises with fear all the time. Uruk-hai strong!"  
  
Tashuk was still quivering with anger.  
  
Mahulda remained silent except for the sound of her ragged breath. She could not take her eyes off Tashuk's body. The imprint of what appeared to be a broad strip of fabric ran over the Uruk's upper body. It had concealed and held what Mahulda perceived to be beautifully shaped, firm breasts with high nipples and large, dark areolas. Shapely hips curved into strong, well- muscled legs, and the delta of short and dense curly black hair between those legs eradicated Mahulda's last trace of doubt.  
  
Tashuk glared at the dumbfounded human. The Uruk woman stood with her legs slightly apart, feet firmly planted into the ground, and her whole demeanor was one of anger as well as of pride and defiance. Now it was out, her secret revealed, and nothing remained but her rage. It gradually gave way to an emptiness that Tashuk found very hard to endure. Finally, without a word, she spun around to tend to the low burning fire, then to her bed, still oblivious of the oozing wound on her right arm.  
  
As much as Mahulda wanted to speak: she had no words. She lay awake for most of the night in spite of her exhaustion, her eyes transfixed on Tashuk's strong back. Her mind had gone blank, and she thoughtlessly observed the regular rise and fall of the dark shoulders, as the Uruk woman slept soundly and deeply. Only after the fire had died, Mahulda was finally able to get some rest.  
  
*************  
  
On the next morning, Tashuk's anger had dissipated. She had decided to accept the human female for what she was, and she did no longer want her friendship and advice. She did not really have much choice but to go back to her people, even if it would be difficult to come up with an excuse for her absence. Elves and humans took prisoners among their own kind, but never among Orcs. Tashuk would have to explain why she was still alive and well, and she dreaded that moment.  
  
Mahulda woke up just as the Uruk-hai woman was getting dressed again. Tashuk was busy fumbling with the dirty strip of cloth that had concealed her full breasts under tunic and armor, when her companion raised her head. Mahulda sensed her savior's silent resignation, and she did not wish to antagonize Tashuk again. No matter what this creature was - it had saved her life.  
  
"The others. your folk. they don't know?" she asked softly.  
  
Tashuk shot her a brief glance. "No," she snapped, averting her gaze again and grabbing her leather tunic. Mahulda could see that the gash on the Uruk's right arm was still wet with black blood and now also some yellowish fluid. The wound looked much worse than before.  
  
"When did you find out that you are different?"  
  
"None of your business."  
  
"Tashuk, I am sorry for. the way I acted. But you saw what they did to me. Last night. I was so scared, thinking you might just want me for yourself," the woman burst out.  
  
To Mahulda's surprise, Tashuk knelt to come face to face with her, the lynx- eyes burning into hers.  
  
"Tashuk want you. But not for that! ...So many questions," the Uruk said.  
  
"Questions you want to ask me?" Mahulda wondered. Tashuk had her attention, and she was also glad that her savior seemed willing to talk again.  
  
The Uruk nodded.  
  
"Well. why don't you ask your questions then. If I can answer them, I will."  
  
"Not sure," Tashuk muttered, almost to herself. "I will get food first, then talk."  
  
"Your arm looks horrible. Don't you want to do something about it, or could I."  
  
Tashuk's eyes flared up once more. "You're not even able to take care of yourself," she growled. "I will get food now."  
  
Before Mahulda could speak up, the Uruk had leapt to her feet and slid out of the cave.  
  
After what seemed an eternity to Mahulda, Tashuk returned with a wild hen and a leather bag full of clean water. Another fire and another good meal lifted their mood, and with relief the human realized that the pain in her body had begun to subside. Maybe there was no permanent damage, and she could lead a normal life when all this madness was over. Memories of her husband brought fresh tears to her eyes, but she pulled herself together and forced herself to think of what was lying ahead. And she certainly did not want to irritate Tashuk again, who was greedily ripping into a huge piece of half-cooked meat.  
  
As soon as they had finished their meal, Mahulda asked Tashuk to give her some of the water, so she could clean her soiled legs. Without a word, the Uruk tore a small piece from Mahulda's cover blanket and dapped it into the water. She handed the rough shred to the young woman, not taking her eyes off the white legs once while Mahulda washed and wiped away the crusted blood and dried urine, deliberately ignoring the Uruk-hai's stare.  
  
"Good," Tashuk commented and took the shred from Mahulda. When she bent her arm, more of the unhealthy looking fluid oozed out. Once more the human woman looked frightened.  
  
"Tashuk, we have to do something about your arm. I am not a healer, but you will be very sick if this is not treated. Please. let me at least clean and bind it."  
  
The Uruk looked at her arm and frowned at what she saw. "You're right," she asserted.  
  
When Tashuk produced a mean-looking short knife and carefully placed it between the glowing logs, Mahulda caught her breath, but said nothing.  
  
"You burn that out," Tashuk instructed her in a level voice, "Too late for binding." With a grim smile, she pointed directly between Mahulda's legs. "You're luckier than me!" she laughed.  
  
The human turned pale, cold sweat running down her body. Mahulda did not know if this was due to the prospect of burning out her friend's wound or due to the Uruk's gesture.  
  
"I am not so sure about that," she whispered.  
  
Tashuk did not respond. She moved closer to Mahulda, resting the injured arm purposefully on her knee. A sharp, irony smell of sweat and blood washed over the woman, and her stomach protested. But some impulse made her grasp Tashuk's right hand, and she looked up into the calm, golden eyes.  
  
"I don't know if I can do this."  
  
"You can do better than me with other hand."  
  
"You really want me to do this, don't you?"  
  
The Uruk nodded, squeezing Mahulda's hand lightly.  
  
"I'll be alright. Promise."  
  
Tashuk did not flinch when Mahulda pressed the flat side of the red glowing knife into the wound, but her body hummed with the vibration of suppressed pain. With her free hand, Mahulda held on to Tashuk's injured arm, unable to close her fingers around the solid muscles. She steadied herself more than she supported Tashuk's body, and she gasped at the stench of burning flesh. Shakily, but determined, the woman burned out the wound until there was no more dead tissue left.  
  
*************  
  
When Mahulda opened her eyes, she found herself in Tashuk's arms, lying on the Uruk's bed. Startled, she struggled out of the stronger creature's embrace. Blinking her slanted eyes and stretching sleepily, Tashuk woke up. She did not understand at all why her friend once more was so upset, but let go of her because she did not want to provoke the human's unnerving wining and sobbing.  
  
"What happened?" Mahulda demanded, her voice much too shrill to sound authoritative.  
  
Tashuk yawned and blinked again. Her expression was almost one of pity.  
  
"You passed out again. Told me lie down and get rest, then passed out here. "No trust, no?" she added after a pause.  
  
Mahulda felt somewhat stung, but she only shrugged. She was very much aware that she was still more naked than dressed in the tatters that had once been her clothes, especially since the Uruk woman was openly staring at the human's badly scratched breasts now.  
  
"What is it like. with your males?" Tashuk asked out of the blue, comfortably propping her head up with her good arm.  
  
"What?!" Mahulda exclaimed, too perplexed now to put some distance between the Uruk and herself.  
  
"They all do it like that?" She pointed at Mahulda's injuries.  
  
"Oh. by the Good Valar, no, no...!" the human woman responded, finally realizing what Tashuk was talking about.  
  
"You had mate, right?" the Uruk continued to prod. "Was he good mate, that male?"  
  
Mahulda nodded vigorously, her stomach tightening and her eyes once more filling with tears.  
  
Tashuk watched her thoughtfully. This was not quite the reaction she had expected, but then this human got excited about all kinds of things. Tashuk frowned, wondering what had been so special about Mahulda's late mate. He certainly had not possessed any remarkable strength or fighting skills. Tashuk recalled how she and Uzgur had cornered the man effortlessly. She had severed his head with one stroke of her sword. Upon tasting the spray of warm blood on her lips and tongue, the two of them had merely felt sorry that they would have to leave behind such excellent food.  
  
"He was a kind man," Mahulda burst into Tashuk's prolonged silence, defiance rising in her. "And he treated me well. He never forced me, like, like. the way your folk did."  
  
Tashuk frowned. She could not imagine anybody forcing her to do anything. She had bad memories of her time at Orthanc though, and the recollection always made her feel uneasy.  
  
"Nobody force me! I kill them if they try!" she growled menacingly.  
  
In spite of her friend's threatening growl, Mahulda looked at Tashuk with different eyes now.  
  
"Is that why you have to hide that you are a woman? Are you afraid they would try to rape you too, so you'd have to fight your own kind?" she asked.  
  
Tashuk stared right through her, thinking.  
  
"Don't know," the Uruk-hai said slowly. "They hate you. So they don't care. They don't hate me. We fight together, share food. I am as good as anyone of them. Good fighter."  
  
"I still don't quite understand," Mahulda said musingly. "Are there no other Uruk-hai women? And if there are none, how did your people learn so well how to rape and torture the womenfolk of other races?" She was trembling now, her face pale.  
  
"Mordor Orcs showed them. Saruman made them go with us. Not good. Mostly hate them. I do," Tashuk hissed, baring her sharp fangs for a second, "but we must do as wizard says. Understand?"  
  
"Most of it, I'm afraid," Mahulda said shakily, yet intrigued by her savior's story. "So tell me, how did you learn that you are different? Why haven't the others noticed? Don't your kind have a good sense of smell?"  
  
"Tashuk has hands and eyes. Can see and feel I am different. Powerful wizard said I am different too. Born too early, he said. His fingers on me all the time. I did not like that, so hurt him. He hurt me then."  
  
"That's horrible. Did he actually.?" Mahulda swallowed hard.  
  
"Put his thing into me? No!" The Uruk woman shook her head. "But he was really mad, hurting me with spell. I hate him! Tashuk hid, so he forgot."  
  
Mahulda fell silent, thinking. She did not believe that such a powerful entity as the White Wizard of Isengard would ever forget anything, but whatever the reason, he had let Tashuk go with the other Uruk-hai. The human felt sorry for her. At least Mahulda had always known her place, even if she was only a simple peasant woman of Rohan. As much as her life had been laid out for her from the very beginning, there had been comfort and happiness in this kind of stability, and in the knowledge that she was part of a larger pattern. She had looked forward to having children, to teaching them in the way of the Rohirrim.  
  
Tashuk shifted uneasily. She was still agitated, and Mahulda's sudden absentmindedness ired her. Impatiently, she tugged on the sleeve of the woman's torn dress. Mahulda woke from her thoughts with a start.  
  
"Sorry, Tashuk. I was thinking about my own people for a while." Again, she swallowed, fighting back the sadness that only would bring new tears. "They are so different from your kind. So. I don't know if I can give you any kind of advice."  
  
Tashuk got up from the bed and busied herself at their cold fireplace, the long black braids hiding the mottled face from Mahulda's view.  
  
"I will go back. No other place to go. Miss them."  
  
A pang of fear made Mahulda's stomach contract. "You are going to leave me?" she asked.  
  
Her words were followed by a long, uncomfortable silence, and the woman felt wretched, realizing that the Uruk was thinking hard about their unusual liaison. Eventually Tashuk looked up, her expression calm:  
  
"I will stay with you until your wounds are better. Then you must go back to your people, and Tashuk must go find hers. Otherwise too late, not able find them. No smell and no trace."  
  
*************  
  
Tashuk and Mahulda were standing at the fork of a sandy road, the Uruk squinting against the bright daylight and ducking back into the forest. Mahulda was wearing men's clothes that Tashuk had brought her. She had not dared to ask about their origin, and first she had been reluctant to put them on, but now she felt strangely protected in these garments. The Uruk- hai was satisfied to see that her protégée was comfortable, yet she could no longer hide her restlessness. She wished nothing more than to leap back into the woods and run, following a trail that was hidden from Mahulda's senses.  
  
The Rohirrim woman took a step toward the taller, stronger creature and reached up to put one hand on her friend's shoulder. Tashuk's body radiated an incredible heat, and she trembled with a kind of animal excitement that made Mahulda's hair stand on end. So our alienation has already begun, she thought with sadness. Silently crying, she threw herself into Tashuk's arms and reached up to caress her friend's cheek. Tashuk did not stir and allowed the embrace. After a while, she lowered her head, nuzzling Mahulda's hair and inhaling deeply, as if to memorize the woman's scent. Then she carefully placed a gentle love-bite on the woman's tear-stained cheek.  
  
The growling voice reverberated in Mahulda's body, and she huddled against the Uruk, as Tashuk spoke:  
  
"Tashuk will not forget you. You'll be alright. Promise!"  
  
Before Mahulda could say anything else, the Uruk had freed herself from the tight embrace. Then, with a rustle of dead winter leaves, she was gone. 


	2. Response to Your Reviews

In Response to Your Reviews:  
  
A big thank you to all of you who reviewed this fic. I must say, I am a bit overwhelmed. It is, after all, the first fic I ever published here, and English is not my first language. (Big hugs to Katharine and Spooks for their valuable input!)  
  
To answer your questions: Yes, I would love to continue this story, and I will. It was originally planned as a stand-alone, but you know what it is like: your characters take over, they demand attention, they w a n t to be written. Mahulda and Tashuk (especially the latter) are actually quite demanding, but I work fulltime. So please - everybody - bear with me!  
  
So far, I have ideas for 2 - 3 more chapters - after that, I just have to take it from there.  
  
To Fiona Rayne: Thank you for sharing your thoughts and for the tip to have the story rated "R". And I agree: women are often tougher than men - As sad as it is: I think in their heads they have often dealt with things that c o u l d happen to them before they happen, i.e. rape and abuse in general, so they can get out a bit more intact than men, who have a harder time bearing a n y kind of humilitation. It's not part of their concept of the world.  
  
To The Lauderdale: LOL! Yeah, how could I have kept up the facade otherwise...? I didn't find another way. Glad it worked though ;-)  
  
To Weirdlet: The Hidden Uruk-hai Females are becoming this year's big theme! L! I just read two other fics about them, and of course I'd love to read yours. It is amazing how different everybody's imagination works, and the results are very original & inriguing. Keep going! 


	3. Chapter 2: Towards Home

**Chapter 2: Toward Home**

Mahulda had been walking for only a day and a half, and already fear and loneliness threatened to close in on her and crush her courage entirely. She remembered how she had determinedly dried away the tears that had trickled unchecked over her cheeks after Tashuk's departure and had begun to walk briskly towards her old home, but what she had seen during this short time frightened her deeply.

Inexperienced in these matters as she was, the stench of war had caught her unware; the smell of unburied and unburnt corpses of both men and Uruk-hai sickening her to the core, nearly unbearable even in the cold winter air. She could avoid the sight of bloated and slashed bodies for the most part, but the horrifying reek stung her nose, made her stomach roil and her head swim. She feared it would settle in her clothes too – currently her only valuable possession, taken from some slain man by Tashuk.

She had to reach her brother's home. Unless her blurred memories of the Uruk-hai raid were faulty, his village should have been spared by the pillaging horde of Saruman's cruel servants. _It had to be!_ Mahulda's sanity was hanging on this thin thread of hope. If he and his family were dead as well... Her mind steadfastly refused to complete the thought. It would not even acknowledge the mere possibility.

Pulling her cloak closer around her shoulders, the young Rohirrim woman marched on. Sometimes she saw people in the distance – peasants returning to their fields and gardens, people of her folk slowly resuming their everyday life. In spite of her loneliness she did her best to pass them unnoticed. She knew that the idea of foreign eyes upon her would cause panic to well up in her. 

Strangely enough, she always thought of Tashuk whenever she saw other people, recalling the Uruk's warm, faintly trembling body against hers, as well as the gentle love-bite as they had bid each other farewell. She then had to will Tashuk's image from her mind. But deep in her heart she already held the knowledge that she was going to miss her unlikely friend for a long, long time.

***********

At nightfall Mahulda had reached the end of the gently sloped country that marked the outskirts of Rohan. The rim of a large forest loomed in front of her, appearing solid like a wall in the dark. This was the very forest where the Uruk-hai had camped, the very forest where they had taken her again and again until she had been bereft of her senses with pain and humiliation; her body cold and bloodied. 

Doubtful of her courage, she stood in the open plain for a long time, chilled to the bone. Stars began to twinkle in the cold winter sky, and her breath formed white clouds before her face. She did not dare to enter – not at night anyway. Shivering, she turned to look back at the gentle slopes she had just crossed. No, she would rather spend the night in the open.

Her gaze wandered over the big rocks that were randomly scattered all over the plain like a handful of marbles thrown by a giant's child.

_I can rest close to a rock_, she thought. _It will neither shield me from the cold nor from the eyes of one who looks close enough, but it will suffice for a few hours_. 

Mahulda was well aware that she would not be able to sleep at all this night, but that she could handle. Tashuk had taken care of her for almost another week, leaving her alone to rest in the cave for long hours, but always faithfully returning with food in spite of her increasing restlessness. The woman's wounds were healing well, and walking had ceased to hurt some days ago.   

The slender woman turned sideways where she had spotted a large hill not too far away. A handful of rocks, almost arranged like a stone imitation of a bird's nest, huddled against its base. This would be a good place to rest, protected from windchill and unsuspecting eyes, lest there be anyone around, which she doubted after her long, lonely walk across the plain.

Mahulda pushed her tired body forward, her eyes watering from the increasing wind. She pressed her chin to her chest and did not look left or right after she had chosen her direction, until she sensed a presence.

The sudden appearance of a dark, broad face caught her completely off guard. Yellowish eyes glared at her from a considerable height, and she screamed on top of her lungs, scrambling backwards, her hands raised before her face in a futile gesture. 

Her body and mind knew melted into fear when she fully realized it was indeed an Uruk-hai's face, the coarse, black hair and the rough, broad features with the gaping, fanged mouth unmistakeable. Her legs turned substanceless, and she fell to the hard ground in hysterical, heaving sobs.

Nothing stirred but the wind. 

Those hideous eyes, impassive and cold, continued to stare at her. The creature's expression had not altered. The cruel mouth had not distorted into a menacing snarl, and it did not attack. 

A strong gust of wind whipped across the plain, and a wisp of long, black hair caressed the dark, unmoving face. It wrapped itself playfully around the angrily wrinkled nose, its loose end waving cheerfully in the now gentle breeze.

Everything was quiet except for Mahulda's whimper as she crouched; expecting death or what she feared worse...

An eternity seemed to pass. The human woman was still alive and unhurt. When she was finally able to breathe more easily, Mahulda slowly lifted her head.

Yes, it was an Uruk-hai's face. But there was no massive body, and no strong, clawed hands brandishing weapons or trying to grab her. It was only a head, impaled on what seemed to be an abandoned spear; the creature's dead glare inevitably meeting the eyes of those who walked by. Still hostile, but powerless.

Shakily, the Rohirrim woman picked herself up. Unthinking she edged closer to the horrible thing, looking at it in morbid fascination in spite of the disgusting stench. The skin was already slightly wrinkled, but still leathery and tough. The outlines of strong jaw muscles were clearly visible; the gaping mouth frozen in an unfinished, defiant roar. 

Of course it had died fighting.

Now that her panic had dissipated, Mahulda noticed that the yellow eyes were glazed over and turning whitish-grey. As they had begun to sink deeper into the massive skull, the slain creature's expression had become even more animal-like.

_It must have been here for at least ten days, yet no bird of prey or other scavenger has touched it, not even to peck out the eyes. When they find something dead, they always go for the eyes first..._, Mahulda mused abstractedly.

Another gust lifted more of the matted black hair. Mahulda flinched but made no sound. Instead, she raised a hand toward the head to take the strand that was still caught under the creature's nose with two trembling fingers and set it free. Although it was completely dark now, she could make out a thick crust of blood under the Uruk-hai's wide nostrils. There was dried blood in its mouth too. She could see it clearly when she raised herself on her toes.                

With a sigh, she stepped back. Farther away she recognized a dark, oddly shaped hill – a pile of bodies, most of them distorted and burnt beyond recognition. Without looking any closer, she somehow knew that among this festering amassment of death were the bodies of those who had captured and tortured her. But she did not feel any relief or satisfaction, just emptiness. 

_My people have done this_. _They set up this hideous thing_.

Suddenly, a blond warrior on a sunlit battlefield appeared before her eyes. Confident and proud in his well-kept, shimmering amor, he reached down to the dark, heavy body of the one he had just slain – the last of them. With a satisfied, grim smile on his face he drew his dagger and begun to cut through the still warm flesh, determined to claim his trophy.

It was over. They had won, and nobody would deny him the satisfaction of doing this. Let the firm, resilient flesh of the dead monster fight his dagger in vain! His kind had prevailed! 

The sickening, wet sound as he propped the head onto the sharpened wood did not diminish the pleasure he took in the sight before him, nor did the long-lasting dribble of thick, black blood – blood that seemed strangely unwilling to part with its owner.        

With a shudder, Mahulda blinked away the disturbing vision. Puzzled and weary with all she had seen, she turned away from the Uruk-hai head and wandered over to the hill she had chosen as her resting place.     

***********

Tashuk moved like an arrow released from a bow: swift and full of purpose. Never mind that her target was moving, probably almost as fast as her. She would find them! Her heart beat excitedly, and it felt good to move with a destination, knowing that she would no longer have to go in circles all the time, always returning to the sad and weak human she had saved. Bringing her food. Bringing her drink. Bringing firewood. Tending to their fire.

Oh, she liked the human, although she would not have been able to say why. There was, after all, some strength and resilience in her, in spite of her habit to make funny, whining noises all the time, her tiresome habit of curling up when confronted with unpleasant things – as if that would help, ever! – and in spite of her soft, frail, muscleless body. 

It just felt good to be totally free again, to run fast. And it would feel good to return to the familiar smell of their camp, to hear raucous laughter and roars of battle-fever instead of sobbing, to roughly tease and be teased by other strong, hot bodies. _That _she had missed most during her stay with Mahulda. The human was so afraid of touch, she had rather shivered besides a dying fire, doing her curling up-routine than allowing Tashuk to lie by her side to keep her warm. _Strange and complicated human_.

But Mahulda's image began to fade fast from Tashuk's mind as the solitary Uruk-hai came into landscapes ravished by war, fields still telling of slaughter. The Uruk's nostrils widened, and she shivered with discomfort whenever the stale smell of long-slain, long-burnt Orc flesh assaulted her nose.

Her exuberance was entirely sucked out of her when she started to realize that there were many more corpses of Uruk-hai than of men. Running mostly at night, she would sneak close in the dark and inspect them without alerting anyone to her presence. The experience left her bewildered, as she had not even known there were – had been – so many of her kind. 

Zigzagging through these ghostly fields of death in the dark, anxiously prodding and sniffing some of the bodies that looked vaguely familiar, soon added agony to her bewilderment. Upon realizing they were not of her group. she felt relief, but even that relief did no longer lift her spirit, since she had lost the scent that had still lingered in the air when she had parted with Mahulda. Now it was completely lost in the pervasive stench of murder.

Tashuk realized that it would not make sense to simply run further into the barren North-East without a clue where she was going and who she expected to find. Rohan did not offer much shelter in the shape of woods, but if there were any Uruk-hai or other Orcs left, they would have gone to find shelter among trees or in caves. She bowed her head, ashamed to think of her people retreating and hiding. 

Yet she hoped she was right.

***********

"Stay where you are!"

The voice was rough and deep, resonating in Tashuk's near-empty stomach. Words uttered in a strange dialect of Black Speech, and an Orc's voice, but it was none she knew.

"Who are you to give orders?" she shouted back. She stayed between the short bushes, half-hidden and knowing that any attack would be hampered by the thorny vegetation. Her dagger rested heavily in her hand, well-balanced against her palm. Every fiber in her body was ready to attack, to lash out at the unknown owner of that voice, but she was also weary and hungry and did not crave a fight.

Instead of an answer, a tall and wiry Uruk came forward. A familiar looking, black-feathered arrow was notched and halfway ready for release, but then the bow was slowly lowered. The hard glare of narrowed, disturbingly bright and cold eyes scanned her body. Tashuk endured it, wordlessly meeting the scrutinizing glare, doing her best not to appear angry or defiant.

"Morlúkh. Of Mordor." 

Tashuk inhaled slowly, and she had to force herself not to gawk. She knew that other Uruks existed outside Isengard, had existed before her. This knowledge had always been there, in the back of her mind. It had never mattered though... until now. 

His eyes still held hers. Expect for the piercing and black, slit pupil, they were almost white, with a greyish-blue tint. There was no warmth in them. He emanated danger.

"Tashuk... Fighting Uruk-hai of Isengard," she introduced herself, trying to sound dignified and cool.

"_Fighting_ Uruk-hai," he sneered. "Aren't we _all_?" 

If it had not been for the faintest trace of bitterness in his voice, Tashuk would have been at Morlúkh's throat in one leap. She swallowed her anger, but her grip on the dagger tightened further.

Morlúkh noticed it though – the mere shifting of weight, the faint shadow of a twitching sinew. 

"Leave it where it is, unless you want me to hurt you," he rasped, "and follow me."

Tashuk gasped, fishing for words, but she was too tired and slow. Any effort to assemble a delayed retort would look stupid. Also, Morlúkh was already walking away from her, the bow relaxed in his hand now. She was no coward, and she would not attack him while he had turned his back on her. Although it would be easy to get him to turn around...

_Forget it_, she thought. _He is leading you somewhere. At least he has a destination. You don't._

***********

Morlúkh was greeted without enthusiasm by a small, badly scarred Orc, who immediately craned his neck to look around at Tashuk. Then he scuttled closer to walk beside her and lifted his head, jagged teeth bared in a grimace of disgust.

"Great! Just what we need. Another green Uruk newcomer who probably doesn't know his ass from his ears, but wants to be fed all the same."

The Orc, who did not even reach up to Tashuk's hip, jumped in front of her and spat, barely missing her. Without thinking, her body responded, and a well-muscled leg lashed out. The Orc doubled over with a scream that turned into a prolonged hissing howl. Satisfied she realized she must have hit some parts he held very dear.

"Snaga!" she snarled. Not very creative, and it did not even sound especially disgusted or hateful.

The Orc picked himself up, moving closer to Morlúkh, still howling with pain between muttered words: "I tell ya, Morlúkh, 'tis going too far, I've had enough of these stinkin' Uruks from around here."

"Very well."

Before the echo of Morlúkh's words had faded, the Orc's head rolled away from the crumpling body. The latter twitched in a too late impulse to escape, and black blood gushed out, pooling in the short grass. 

"At least _some _of us won't go hungry tonight," he said haughtily.

The Orc's death caused some commotion among the mixed group of smaller and Great Orcs. Some approved and some disapproved of Morlúkh's deed, but nobody was without an opinion, and quarrels broke out. Soon harsh and loud voices tried to overshout each other, arms groped, booted feet kicked, and somebody even threw a knife at an opponent. 

Tashuk stood back, suddenly grateful to have Morlúkh stand between her and the others. At least he could not see her confusion, her shame about what was happening before her eyes. Her group had had brawls as well, but it was clear that these Uruks and Orcs had no longer a purpose. They served no common goal which would help to bring them back to order and unity. It pained her.

A giant, black-skinned Uruk came forward, ignoring the chaos and simply shouldering the others out of his way. 

"Uzgur!" Tashuk cried out.

The pitch-black features distorted into a toothy grin which almost split the broad face. Tashuk quivered with the urge to charge her friend and punch his ribs with joy, but knowing Morlúkh between them and strangers in Uzgur's back, she restrained herself and simply did her best to match the other Uruk's grin.

"He was in your band?" Morlúkh inquired, deliberately ignoring their obvious delight at seeing each other.

Uzgur nodded, the grin slowly retreating from his face.

"Where does your friend come from, then?"

Tashuk shifted in Morlúkh's back; an annoyed snarl escaping her throat. 

"I can speak for myself!" she protested. 

Strangely enough, it was Morlúkh's use of the small word 'he' that aggrevated her more than his display of authority. It reminded her of another issue she would have to deal with yet. Travelling alone, she had merely become Tashuk again, one of Isengard's Fighting Uruk-hai, and since she had left Mahulda she had not been thinking in terms of sex. 

The feeling of Morlúkh's hot breath on her face brought her thinking to a grinding halt. Slit, ice-colored eyes bored into widened, golden ones.

"...and you will – when _asked_," he growled menacingly. 

Tashuk's gaze flicked over Morlúkh's shoulder for a split second. She could only catch a glimpse of Uzgur's eyes, and they had become hard and angry. She could also sense that he was ready to charge, the tenseness in his body somehow transmitting itself to her. Right now, this was all she needed to know...

Unwilling to acknowledge Morlúkh's leadership, she planted her feet stubbornly, preparing for a blow. She remained silent, unable to consent as well as unwilling to provoke the Mordor-Uruk any further.

"I see – another arrogant Isengarder," Morlúkh hissed after a while, grabbing the smaller Uruk's chin, bringing his face even closer to hers. 

Tashuk's body began to tremble with a deep, hostile growl, but Morlúkh was not impressed. He did not move. He took another deep breath, and suddenly his eyes widened, as if he were surprised or confused by something.

"This – shall be – interesting..." he hissed. Then, unexpectedly, he released Tashuk's chin, flung her head to one side and marched off, ignoring her as well as Uzgur.

"What was this all about?" Tashuk asked her friend, the growl still in her voice and humiliation clenching her guts, replacing the hunger she had felt all day. She rubbed her whiplashed neck resentfully, silently cursing this ill-tempered Morlúkh-bastard and swearing to seek revenge.

"He is just his usual, cheerful self," Uzgur replied with a hearty slap on her back that made her lungs momentarily collapse. "We could fare worse... He is a not a bad leader, though it might take you a while to realize that. The newcomers are beginning to get on his nerves. Has to prove himself over and over again. Of course Morlúkh would be the last one to admit it, but I think he is getting tired of it."

Tashuk shook her head in confusion. It had only been... maybe ten, twelve days since she had freed Mahulda. Could things change so fast? Her eyes came to rest on the mutilated Orc. No doubt they could, and with some finality too.

Uzgur noticed that she was looking at the dead Orc.

"Hungry?" he inquired.

"You eat snaga meat?" she replied, shaking her head once more.

"Too good for you?" Another punch, this time lighter. Tashuk, still lost in thought, stumbled. 

"You _do_ need food," Uzgur laughed.

She nodded, simply trotting along. Red, grey, golden and white eyes looked her up and down while they approached the now much quieter site of the camp, which was not too well hidden in the short, thorny bushes. Obviously nothing permanent. Tashuk watched out for Morlúkh, but she did not see him anywhere. None of the others said anything offensive while she passed them. The newcomer was with Uzgur, and in spite of his good-naturedness, this Uruk-hai warrior was not one to be crossed. 

Uzgur produced a slab of reasonably fresh looking meat from a hide and handed the whole piece to Tashuk. She took it without a word and started ripping into it with unconcealed greed, plopping to the ground while chewing and gulping. Horse meat, somewhat hard and stringy, but the best food she had had in days nevertheless. And a lot of it!

The other Uruk sat down to face her, his expression calm but thoughtful. Tashuk looked the same as he always had, except for a different pattern of leftover, sweat-mingled warpaint in his face. No fresh wounds, no scabs. What had happened when they attacked the horse people? It had distracted him that his fierce friend had not been around; even in the heat of battle. They had been an excellent team, whether they hunted for manflesh or other prey.

"Where have you been?"

"What...?" Tashuk's muffled voice replied.

"What happenend during the fight? You were not there."

"Not now, Uzgur... I'd rather not tell you here, not if you want to hear the truth – "

"So something _does_ stink," he interrupted in a low voice.

Tashuk lowered her head. This day had brought nothing but shame and doubt! Then, in a sudden flash of anger, she threw the leftover piece of meat back at Uzgur. He half-heartedly grabbed at it, but it still landed on his broad, leather-clad chest with a smack. The assailant stared at him, hoping he would get angry, so that she could use teeth and claws against him, but he simply frowned and slowly, ever so slowly, wrapped the meat back into the hide.

With an angry snort Tashuk got to her feet and walked away to the outskirt of the camp. Eyes followed her, but she did not meet the curious gazes, nor did she heed the tall shape of Morlúkh against the twilight sky. He was watching her from a distance and snarled under his breath when he saw that she walked proudly, with her chin raised.

Deliberately ignoring the voices and sneers that reached her even in the remote corner she had picked, Tashuk settled on the ground and curled up against the cold, knowing that her sleep would be light and fitful. Never before had she felt unsafe among her own kind. Never before had she felt lonely or truly miserable. She was not supposed to feel all these things, that much she knew.

And while she tried to get some rest, a voice whispered in her mind that Saruman was defeated and that the Uruk-hai had lost their master's war.    

*************


End file.
